


complications

by MasterEyebrow



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: "psychological advantage" turned into porn basically, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterEyebrow/pseuds/MasterEyebrow
Summary: A night out after a race takes an unexpected turn when Valtteri and Lewis bump into Nico.





	complications

**Author's Note:**

> the much discussed "psychological advantage" except with dicks and sex. also im surprised that no one has written this kinda shit before, but also not really at all.

Valtteri doesn’t go clubbing that often, if there’s something to celebrate or someone asks him he’ll go, probably, but it’s doesn’t just come from him. There’s no way he’s dancing, and it takes so much alcohol before he does karaoke that he won’t remember it (thank god), and he can chat and drink anywhere. Still, he’s at the club, Lewis somehow convinced him, and yeah, it is pretty fun, Lewis knows his way around and can make an evening. At the moment Valtteri’s sitting at their table while Lewis dances with some bunch, and he probably doesn’t know that he looks like an idiot but Valtteri’s not telling. He texts Emilia, wishes her a good night and sends her a video of him discreetly judging Lewis’ moves– she’ll love a bit of private shade.

“Aw, messages to wifey, how cute of you”, a familiar voice says from behind Valtteri, and he turns around – Nico, world champion Nico Rosberg, stands there, a drink in his hands and a sly smile on his face. “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure, no problem”, Valtteri answers before he realises, and he’s not actually sure if it’s okay. He hasn’t been asking questions about what is up with Lewis and Nico, if they’re on terms, it’s not his business and he doesn’t care that much, but he really doesn’t want to create any drama.

“I didn’t know you’re here”, Valtteri says. “Didn’t come say hi to the team?”                                 

Nico takes a sip, shakes his head.

“Oh, no, had some things to do that overlapped. I was supposed to come see the race, but…” he trails off, eyes on the dance floor. His brow quirks up, a realisation on his face. “You’re here with Lewis?”

“Yeah”, Valtteri nods, glances over to the dance floor. Lewis hasn’t noticed Nico, probably, because he’s still dancing.

“You two are getting along nicely, aren’t you.”

“Yeah.”

Nico looks at him, smiling, and Valtteri can’t quite read his face.

“That’s good to hear.”

They both look back at the dance floor, and just then Lewis turns to them, realises who’s there and he’s surprised, shocked, even – and he quickly leaves and walks over, doesn’t really break eye contact with Nico, and Valtteri would rather be anywhere else right now because this isn’t really the place or time he wants to know how these two feel about each other.

“You’re here too, man?” Lewis says when he reaches them, laughs a little. “Should’ve let me know.”

“Now, where’d the surprise be there?” Nico answers, cocks his head. “No, I wasn’t planning on coming here, but I had some spare time in my hands.”

“So you came to your natural environment. Hah, good to see you”, Lewis says, sits down next to Valtteri. It’s seems very pleasant, their exchange – genuinely pleasant. “How are the kids and Vivian?”

“Great, Alaïa is an enthusiastic big sister, Vivian and I have our hands full.”

“I bet”, Lewis grins, no malice in sight. He looks at Valtteri and nudges him playfully. “Has Nico been talking shit about me?”

“I was about to”, Nico cuts in, points at the two of them with a hint of intoxicated confidence. “You two have been getting along too well, I don’t like that.”

“You gave me tips”, Valtteri points out, and Lewis snickers, is probably more amused than he should be – he’s drunk. Nico rolls his eyes, takes a generous gulp of his drink.

“I didn’t think they’d be any use”, he confesses. “Lewis has just taken a liking to you. Am I right?”

And Valtteri might be imagining it, but there’s just something about that last part that has a suspicious tone, and the way Nico stares at Lewis, no matter how well it is disguised as joking around, there’s something deeper there and these are uncharted waters Valtteri doesn’t want to get familiar with. Not that he gets any say in it, because Lewis is the one who responds.

“Oh, are you jealous?” he says, _winks_. Valtteri can’t even pretend he didn’t see it, it was so obvious and straight-forward and _not just aimed at Nico_.

“Of what?” Nico plays dumb. Lewis shrugs, glances at Valtteri, studies Nico and Valtteri isn’t sure if this is a dick-measuring contest, a power play or a prank on him, or maybe a combination of all of them.

“Me getting along with a teammate. Valtteri getting along with me. There’s a lot of options”, Lewis lists. “You know, maybe you want a part in this.”

“You’re saying I’m lonely?” Nico chuckles.

Lewis leans back, an expression on his face that Valtteri doesn’t recognise, something much like concentration and competitiveness but still not quite that, the determination targeting things unsaid.

“I’m saying you have habits. Habits you might return to.”

Nico grins, looks down as he shakes his head.

“Oh, Lewis, I never gave up.”

And suddenly something brushes against Valtteri’s leg – no, that’s not right. Nico’s foot traces up Valtteri’s leg and that’s pretty hard to miss and pretty easy to realise what it means, or what all this talk has been about. Lewis scoffs next to Valtteri, fully aware of what is happening.

“He’s the worst”, Lewis says to Valtteri. “He’s all good on the camera, but as soon as he can he’ll turn into this fucking tease, drives you up the wall and leaves you hanging – and that’s not even worst, because he also comes to you when you’re busy and _that’s_  when he’s all serious.”

Nico snorts, turns his face away as he laughs into the back of his hand, and Lewis rolls his eyes, a bit more drunk than Valtteri thought as he rambles on.

“I’m actually glad he won the title, because now he’s off my arse and doesn’t bother me with his silly bullshit anymore.” Lewis shakes his head, a hint of a weird grin on his face. “Man, never come out of retirement.”

“I don’t have to race to fuck around”, Nico points out smugly. “Besides, you were an easy target. And a bitchy teammate anyway, you deserved it.”

“And now he’s talking shit about me”, Lewis throws his hands in the air, looks at Valtteri. “Don’t listen to him, it’s all horseshit.”

Valtteri doesn’t really know what to say to that. He’s hear too much already, things that he’s not a part of and has no business to be. “Okay”, he says, strained. His response was probably irrelevant, but he’d like to think he’s got some influence over this situation and that he’s not just a tool for these two.

Nico likes that responding though, he supposes, because the leg returns, brief but obvious again. Tensed up, Valtteri bites his lip, stares intensely at the table and prays for Lewis to say something, or just any kind of distraction, at this point he’d probably welcome Daniel Ricciardo’s disgusting shoe juice with open arms if it was offered to him. It’s not that he’s panicking over whatever the hell is going on – it’s his curiosity, lifting its ugly head within him quite ready to contribute more into this stupid farce. It’s the alcohol, he thinks, he hasn’t had that much but it must be it, because Valtteri Bottas is not interested in shitstorms of any kind and this is exactly that – a shitstorm, and he’s being lured into it.

“We shouldn’t bully him like this, should we?” Nico asks. “I mean, he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Yeah, he’s all good”, Lewis agrees. “We’re just messing with you.”

“I figured with all the giggling,” Valtteri says and awkwardly motions at Nico. He doesn’t sound very natural, but then again he’s always an awkward mess, so maybe it’s convincing enough.

“What giggling?” Nico frowns, just enough disorientation in him to settle Valtteri. Nico takes a sip, scrutineers Valtteri under his gaze. Lewis mutters something, suddenly disdained, but it drowns under the music. Nico puts his empty glass on the table, considers it for a moment before facing Valtteri again, puts his elbows on the table and somehow completely cuts Lewis out of his social situation.

“Lewis isn’t into sharing, you know”, Nico says, stares right into Valtteri’s eyes and it’s like a spell, Valtteri can’t turn away. “Not with me or Jenson or the others, at least. You’ve been let off quite easy.”

“Man, fuck off”, Lewis laughs, but it’s forced. Valtteri wants to say something, steer away from this, but it’s too late now. He’s become some kind of a pawn in this, this thing between Nico and Lewis he can’t quite figure out, and it pretty terrifying and somehow interesting simultaneously. He wouldn’t place himself in this kind of game in his mind, never. To watch reality become some kind of a ridiculous power play, he doesn’t quite know how to react, thus cannot put together an escape plan.

“You really are something special, you”, Nico says, doesn’t break eye contact with Valtteri. “Because you can’t play mind games for shit, yet aren’t put under Lewis’ foot. Because you’re just genuinely so likable and so good of a driver that it just works. Blows my mind.”

“That’s why they signed me”, Valtteri offers his input to this. It’s really just filler. Doesn’t mean a thing.

“Come on, Nico, what would you get from fucking Valtteri? You’re _retired_ ”, Lewis cuts in, leans forward. Nico cocks his head to the side, but doesn’t face Lewis, hardly acknowledges him physically.

“I’ve missed riling you up.”

And Valtteri remembers that Toto once said that one of the reasons Nico and Lewis were so explosive was because Nico was the one initiating those attacks, and that must be what’s going on here – Nico is throwing rocks at Lewis and waits for the Molotov from him.

Instead, Lewis sits back, relaxes.

“Fine, man.” Lewis glances at Valtteri, subtly nods towards him as if to give Nico a permission. “Fuck him up. I’m on board.”

And again, Valtteri has completely lost his place on the page.

*

Technically, Valtteri is not a part of this. Valtteri is a catalyst for Nico and Lewis to use to screw with each other. It doesn’t mean he’s just there against his will, though – because this has a lot to do with Valtteri and Lewis, because Valtteri noticed how Lewis doesn’t actually know how this will turn out and is worried for the balance and so is Valtteri, so maybe he’s kind of helping out a mate? But not really, and this also has very much to do with Nico and Valtteri because Nico came to _him_ , didn’t know Lewis was there, and when they leave the club Lewis is getting his jacket, takes a while because there’s a lot of people, and Nico uses this to somehow corner Valtteri, out of earshot from curious outsiders, and Valtteri doesn’t mind enough.

“I’ve been watching you”, Nico says, and Valtteri’s a bit stupid with alcohol at the moment because he doesn’t get it.

“On TV, yeah, I’ve seen the tweets.”

“No, silly”, Nico laughs, stands so close people would notice if they were attentive enough. “I’ve been watching _you_.”

Valtteri swallows, feels his face heating up and thanks for the dim lighting at the club. This is _Nico_ , and Nico’s been watching him. He’s been excited over less.

“Yeah?” he manages to say, doesn’t know if he manages to play cool.

“Yeah”, Nico says, amused. “Been meaning to get around something like this for a while. A little more complex than I planned, but it’ll work.”

If Valtteri’s heartbeat wasn’t racing before it is now for sure. He feels Nico’s breath on his skin, wonders how appropriate this looks, how _obvious_ , and there’s a part of him that wants to get closer, wants to be touched.

Lewis emerges from somewhere with his coat, and off they go, with too few words said.

*

They end up in Nico’s hotel.

As soon as they’re out of sight, as soon as the lift doors shut, Nico is back at his business, this time the earlier teasing is out of the window and he just presses Valtteri against the wall, kisses him without tender thoughts and Valtteri is a bit overwhelmed for a second, struggles to comprehend this but Nico’s tongue slips into his mouth and he ruts against him and Valtteri regains his understanding of the situation quite well. Lewis is leaning against the opposite wall, keenly observing the display in front of him. Nico breaks the kiss, and there’s something dangerously alluring about him like this, knowing eyes and the smuggest smile,  that Valtteri can’t help but cling onto. He’s flushed, feels even more awkward than usual, but refuses to leave this.

“Here’s my proposal; we’re going to fuck, and Lewis is watching, does that sit with you?” Nico asks, glances at Lewis. Valtteri swallows. Lewis is his teammate, first and foremost, and this might be the stupidest thing to do – but when he looks at Lewis he sees more concern than malicious power play, as if _Lewis_  is the one who should be asked if this is okay.

“I’m down if he’s down”, Valtteri replies, quite satisfied with how confident he sounds. Lewis blinks, a little confused, and then chuckles, relaxes a little.

“I’m down.”

Nico grins, traces his fingers down Valtteri’s neck.

“That’s nice”, he purrs, and just then the lift makes a sound and the doors open at Nico’s floor, and it’s all back to some level of ridiculously normal as they shuffle along the hallway to Nico’s door; Nico fumbles for his key card, swiftly swipes it in and the door clicks. Nico opens the door, Lewis goes in first and Valtteri follows, and if anyone was to see they’d know how ridiculously fake their casual mood is.

Valtteri hears Nico shutting the door behind them, and Lewis takes a seat opposite to the bed, and somehow it’s very grounding and sobering and Valtteri can’t help but think what the hell he’s doing here. But it’s a fleeting thought, because Nico’s right behind him, body hot and his hands travel down, just above his belt and the tips of his fingers dip under just a little bit.

“Let’s get you on the bed”, Nico husks, head resting on Valtteri’s shoulder. Lewis watches them, serene and collected, as Nico guides Valtteri to the bed, fumbles with his belt simultaneously, and Valtteri likes this kind of bullshit much more than he anticipated, and it’s embarrassing because he’s really just under Nico’s control and Nico’s doing whatever he feels like to him and yeah, what kind of a person Valtteri is for being turned on by that? This kind of submission with your teammate watching is the most idiotic thing Valtteri can think of, yet there he is – then again, accepting all this confidently might be all good, because this bullshit will only hurt Valtteri if he lets himself to be hurt. So yeah, he’s doing this, and he’s liking this.

Nico spins him around and pushes him down on the bed, climbs on top of him and there’s really no finesse to it, Nico’s mouth finds Valtteri’s and it’s another sloppy kiss, easily dominated by Nico and Lewis says something Valtteri doesn’t quite hear, but Nico laughs softly into their kiss and breaks it, straightens up and looks back at Lewis, a little defiant.

“You’re getting bossy again”, Nico says, and Lewis rolls his eyes.

“Look who’s talking”, he retorts, and Nico tosses his shoulders, turns his attention to Valtteri again. His hand lands on Valtteri’s crotch, the pressure hardening his prick and yeah, he makes a sound a bit too much for dignity to bear and Nico just loves that, hums in satisfaction. Fumbling Valtteri’s zipper, Nico leans in and assaults Valtteri’s neck, sucking the flesh with no concern over whether it’ll leave a mark or not, and Valtteri bucks into Nico’s touch, a growing desperation for more leading him. Just as Valtteri manages to slip his hand under Nico’s shirt, find the hot, smooth skin underneath, Nico finds his way into Valtteri’s pants, goes straight to the point as he grabs Valtteri’s cock. It’s awkward, Valtteri thinks, no finesse whatsoever, but it’s not really a thing to be concerned of here, is it? It’s a fuck. A weird power play fuck.

“You’re wearing too much”, Nico decides, teasing touches on Valtteri’s shaft that aren’t just quite enough to do anything but drive him crazy.

“You’re in a hurry?” Lewis pipes in. Nico looks at him dryly, unimpressed with Lewis’ snark.

“This isn’t lovemaking, you must be in the wrong place”, Nico replies very much without humour. For a few seconds Nico and Lewis are just like that, stilled and staring each other, and Valtteri feels quite forgotten and that doesn’t sit well with him, he’s supposed to have a part here, isn’t he?

“Should I get undressed?” he manages to ask, it’s so awkward but it does the trick, the attention is back on him, and Nico is quite pleased with this, tugs Valtteri’s jeans.

“Absolutely.”

Valtteri lifts his hips so Nico can remove his jeans, discarded on the floor as Nico’s hands feel Valtteri’s legs upwards, come tantalisingly close to his crotch.

“You ever fucked another driver?” Nico suddenly asks, his finger dipping under the fabric of his underwear. Valtteri’s a little dumbfounded by this, unsure of the relevancy but not that much, actually.

“No”, he says truthfully. He’s too awkward for that, really, they should know that. Lewis shifts, makes a sound that Nico seems to know the meaning of, because he smiles smugly, a dirty look on his face.

“You ever thought about it?” he asks.

Valtteri stays silent, can’t bring himself to answer that because of course he can’t, but his sudden muteness is enough to reveal the truth. Nico and Lewis look at each other, that drunken amusement resurfacing, with perhaps a dash of malice.

“Of course he has”, Lewis says, turns his gaze to Valtteri. “It’s Nico, isn’t it?”

Valtteri opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes out – of course. Nico’s hand reaches his cock once again, firmly around it, and Valtteri bucks into the touch, lets out a heavy breath.

“Everybody thinks that”, Nico says, straddles Valtteri’s thigh, rutting against it and Valtteri can feel Nico’s hard-on, somehow a grounding sensation. For a competitive spirit it’s a terrifying feeling to realise you might be in a league above your level, and for Valtteri this is the first time he’s playing this game.

Nico leans in, other hand still working on Valtteri’s dick while the other one supports, and he kisses Valtteri, rough and ripe with lust, and Valtteri’s hands find their way to Nico’s body, trace down his back to his arse, the coveted treasure half of the paddock wishes to grab and conquer, and he pushes Nico’s hips down, and Nico _shudders_  - but Lewis is the one who breathes out, reverence in the debauchery. Nico breaks the kiss but the distance hardly changes as he simply moves to Valtteri’s earlobe, wicked licks sending sparks down his spine, and then the fucker bites him and Valtteri lets out a profanity, _way_  too aroused by this.

Nico’s hand once again fleets as he picks on the elastic band of Valtteri’s underwear and pulls it, and Valtteri’s exposed cock brushes against Nico’s clothes, and for some reason _that_  is _hot_ , because sure, something about marking Nico probably – stupid. Nico starts jerking him off again, changes his position just so Valtteri sees Lewis again and he looks so eager, and if he’s trying to contain himself from showing just how much he’s enjoying the display, and it’s a thing Valtteri never expected to see in a teammate and most definitely didn’t think it’d excite him. He’s almost expecting Lewis to say something, comment his dick or something as generic, but Lewis just watches, a hand on his own crotch and body tensed by lust.

Nico sucks his ear, licks wetly at his earlobe and suddenly he props himself up, studies Valtteri almost clinically for a second, before that devious enchantment of his is back.

“You’ve ever been fucked?” Nico asks bluntly, and it takes a moment for Valtteri fully to register the meaning.

“Sorry?” he splutters, and Nico chuckles, glances over his shoulder where Lewis is.

“Have you ever been fucked?” Nico repeats, and this time Lewis goes ‘pssh’ behind Nico’s back, rolls his eyes.

“It’s _Valtteri_ , for crying out loud, his homoerotic ventures before this have all been accidental and because he’s too oblivious to notice he’s being an eye candy.”

Valtteri completely blanks out, blinks in confusion.

“What?”

“Relax, darling”, Nico says. “But yeah, you’re fun to look at, but has it gone further than that?” Nico’s fingers trace up and down Valtteri’s inner thigh, inching closer to strategic areas.

“No”, he admits. It’s not a thing to be ashamed of, but that’s kind of what Valtteri thinks these two are going for, intentional or not – he reminds himself again that this can hurt him only if he lets it hurt him. He’s going to hold his own here.

Something wicked flashes in Nico’s eyes.

“Can I fuck you?”

Again it’s a perfect moment for Lewis to pipe in and say something snarky, but instead there’s just a waiting silence. Is it curiosity or carefulness to not disturb this opportunity, Valtteri isn’t sure. Nico looks at him, expectant, and Valtteri detects that doubtfulness and wishful mood underneath Nico’s usually cool façade, his teasing touches almost more like begging. On the surface Nico might be the dominant one, but Valtteri realises he holds the power over that – if he refuses or leaves the build-up will come tumbling down to nothing.

Valtteri considers, lets his confidence grow.

“Yeah.”

It seems to please Nico, how certain Valtteri sounds, because he hums _delightedly_  as he cocks his head on one side, teeth flashing when he smiles.

“Lewis?” he says. It’s not like Lewis’ permission is needed here, but maybe it’s not that. Maybe it’s more like ‘if you’re not up for that there’s the door’.

“Go for it”, Lewis says, a hitch in his voice.

Shifting on the bed, Nico reaches on his nightstand for a tube of lube, makes sure his leg presses against Valtteri’s cock as he does so, and Valtteri has to bite his lip to keep up an illusion of his arousal’s state – his dignity doesn’t like how much he likes this, especially when Nico seems to purposefully take his time and tease Valtteri. Lewis has his hand in his pants now, some lazy movement there, and it’s ridiculous how involved and detached he is in this simultaneously. Lewis is pulling the strings with Nico, but he’s still just an observer, takes what he’s being offered.

The cap of the tube opens with a click, and Nico squirts quite generously lube on his fingers. He works with the clinicality of a mad scientist, Valtteri muses, his enthusiasm mixing with some odd form of professional certainty. Nico arranges himself between Valtteri’s legs, obscenely spread there, and being so exposed makes Valtteri blush, his shyness catching up to him. It’s only getting more intense from here, Valtteri reminds himself, and with that he feels Nico’s slippery fingers brush behind his balls, newness of what is coming pushing him and Nico’s light touch that doesn’t quite give enough keeping his still, creating a maddening feeling that makes Valtteri clutch the sheet to keep himself grounded. And then Nico adds some pressure that makes Valtteri jolt in surprise, because _whoa_ , that is _intense_. Nico massages his cleft, doesn’t quite push in but _almost_ , and it’s amazing and driving Valtteri insane, every movement sends a surge of pleasure that makes him boneless and dizzy, desperate for more, and he didn’t expect to be as into it but he really has to keep himself in check to not just give in to the sensation. Maybe it’s Nico, he reasons, his secret pining for him that he’s locked away in his mind and now unravelled, or perhaps it is that he’s being watched, exposed to his teammate, but it’s ridiculously sexy and so embarrassing to admit himself that.

Lewis says something Valtteri doesn’t quite catch but it seems to be an instruction, because Nico makes an amused sound and nods, discreetly, and then starts pushing in one finger, slow but persistent, and Valtteri’s caught off guard completely and he swears, voice breathless. It feels weird and amazing the same time, the short shock of pain being burned away by new pleasure, and Valtteri’s skin feels oversensitive, he feels oversensitive all over, too eager for Nico to make his next move.

“Feeling nervous?” Nico asks, and it kind of feels like he’s taking the piss, quickly glancing over at Lewis just a bit too smugly. Valtteri doesn’t appreciate that at this moment very much.

“Aren’t you supposed to do something about it?” he retorts, which prompts Nico to stare him in surprise.

“You are, if you don’t know the answer”, Lewis quips from his seat. The ridiculous dick-measuring contest is taking some childish turns, Valtteri thinks, and it’d be kind of below Valtteri’s interests if it wasn’t for his compromising position.

“Shut up”, Nico says, a dash of frustration distracting him for a moment. Then his composure is regained as he assumes his teasing style again, moves his finger in a way that has Valtteri stifle a jolt again as intense pleasure shoots through him. There’s more pressure, Nico pushing in a second finger, his other hand on the underside of Valtteri’s thigh spreading his legs wider, exposing him even more, and Valtteri breathes out, his head falling into the pillow as Nico’s fingers press against his sweet spot, intent and maddening. He’s torn by this, the way Nico has his way with him, dominant yet too playful for Valtteri get a proper grip on him, forcing him to surrender and just take it, and Lewis’ watchful eye on them, present in the situation but not enough and he feels like a stranger peering into his intimacy, and Valtteri likes it, likes it far too much.

Nico twists his fingers, scissoring him, Valtteri’s toes curl and he bucks his hips involuntarily, desperate for more and it’s like he’s melting under Nico’s touch, pliant to his whims.  He feels hot, oversensitive, and he wants Nico to give him more, is so close to begging but his pride stops him just barely, reminds to keep what he can of his reputation – even if his reputation seems to be an awkward, oblivious eye-candy. He’s not planning to change that into something else – especially something this occurrence might serve as proof to.

A third finger starts pushing in and Valtteri feels dizzy for a moment, the intensity coming too strong on him for a moment and he grasps aimlessly at the sheet, hears Nico’s breathing stutter.

“You think you can take it?” Nico asks, almost impatient. Valtteri doesn’t answer immediately, just _feels_  for a moment, tries to catch up. He looks at Lewis, who has been quiet for a while now, mesmerised by the show before him. Lewis licks his lips quickly, probably doesn’t realise that, his hand in his pants palming himself.

“Yeah, go for it”, he says, pleased with the confidence in his voice. It doesn’t necessarily reflect him entirely accurately at the moment.

Nico lets out a bemused grunt, removes his fingers and Valtteri gasps at the loss of the fullness, would blush over this if he wasn’t already flushed. Nico gets off the bed momentarily to undress.

“Love the enthusiasm”, Nico comments. He discards his jeans quickly, pulls his underwear off. He’s fully hard, and somehow seeing Nico’s dick once again grounds Valtteri and reminds him of what this is and where it’s going, and his pulse picks up a little. Nico grabs a condom package and tears it open swiftly, sheathes himself quickly. Lewis keeps silent, almost uncomfortably so, but Valtteri doesn’t really know if this is the moment to chat him.

Nico gets back on the bed, arranges himself between Valtteri’s legs before grabbing the lube again, squirting some on his hand before stroking himself, defined, quick movements. The silence is heavy, some rustling of the sheets and mattress and maybe an odd sigh somewhere breaking it just to banish the gravity of it. Valtteri frowns when Nico grabs his thigh, his hand wet with lube, but then Nico positions himself and Valtteri inhales sharply at the feeling, Nico’s cock pressing against his hole, and then he starts pushing in slowly, and Valtteri can’t even look at Nico or Lewis anymore, just wants to block them out and focus on the feeling, the pleasure, and none of the bullshit around this.

“God, you’re so tight”, Nico says, sounds a little off. “Lewis is missing out.”

Valtteri doesn’t understand what that is supposed to mean exactly, and doesn’t have time to think about it because Nico pulls out, pushes back in, brushes against that sweet spot and Valtteri just jolts, pushes against the bed, and Nico starts pounding into him, grips on Valtteri’s thighs and god, Valtteri can’t hold a thought very long anymore let alone think of anything about his possible awkwardness or negative consequences. There are no tender thoughts here, just rough, thorough fucking, raw sex where Nico takes what he wants and if it offers others something it’s up to them to take it. Every thrust goes straight to Valtteri’s very bones, quickly drawing Valtteri to the edge and he wants more, needs more, wanton sounds escaping him as last of his restraints crumble.

Nico’s pace suffers for a moment when his hand circles Valtteri’s aching erection, starts jacking him off in sync with his thrusts. Valtteri swears breathlessly, doesn’t really even register the word, bucks into Nico’s touch. Nico’s glowing with perspiration, eyes dark with lust as he fucks into Valtteri, and yeah, it does get to Valtteri, not just what Nico does to him and how he turns into silly putty in his hands, but how he affects Nico – Nico wanted him, wants him, looks at him like he’s a dish.

Valtteri feels himself coming closer, tries to let Nico know but words are difficult to force out – Nico seems to know, or maybe that’s just Valtteri’s imagination turning Nico into some kind of a mystical sexual creature rather than an equally needy human being, because Nico picks up his pace, thrusts deeper, harder and it doesn’t take many of that for Valtteri to lose it, come in Nico’s hand and his own stomach with a grunt, his vision going white for a second and pleasure washing over him again and again in ripples, as if it was too powerful to come at once.

Nico slows down but doesn’t stop his thrusts, changes his angle a bit as he keeps going. It’s still a quick pace, but Nico’s using Valtteri now rather than thinking of his pleasure as well – Valtteri doesn’t mind. At all. He’s oversensitive and Nico fucking into him feels almost too much, but he doesn’t know if this will happen again so he’s taking all of it. Nico’s grip on his thigh turns stronger, surely will leave a bruise or two, and Nico’s pace turns uneven, his breaths more laboured and heavy as he works into Valtteri deeply, and then he falters, lets out a high-pitched groan.

It takes a few seconds before Nico pulls out, slightly dazed as he does. He looks at Valtteri, smiles, behind the post-orgasmic haze that familiar deviancy that makes Valtteri’s stomach twist. Lewis is still there – of course he is, even if he seemed quite irrelevant for a few minutes, and he’s wiping his hand on a napkin.

“Give me one, will you”, Nico says. Lewis lazily tosses him a napkin package on the bed, but Nico doesn’t even take one yet. He’s focused on Valtteri, that devilish tease making a comeback as he leans over, lays between Valtteri’s legs and props himself up just a bit, and Valtteri feels his breath on his stomach, his cock, and Nico licks his lips, his fingers tracing the skin of his thighs up to his hip. Nico then leans in, _licks Valtteri’s stomach_ , drags his tongue over to Valtteri’s cum, lapping it, and Valtteri is speechless, completely blanks out on this.

“You’re such a show-off”, Lewis says, now up on his feet. Nico turns his head, quite non-chalant.

“If the aftershow isn’t to your tastes you can leave”, Nico announces.

Lewis looks at him, looks at Valtteri, and he’s caught by the gravity of the situation, something making him seem quite small and uncertain. His eyes turn to the door and he tosses his shoulders, tense and nervous.

“See you somewhere then”, he says, shuffles to the door, doesn’t even glance back even if he seems to want to.

The door clicks, light from the hall pours in and casts Lewis’ shadow over the room, and then it disappears and the door shuts. Valtteri is left alone with Nico.

“So, remember when I said I had plans before this came along?” Nico says, nonplussed about this all, fingers tracing in the spunk on Valtteri’s stomach. “Would you have any interests hearing them?”

Of course he does.

**Author's Note:**

> so lewis makes terrible life choices, nico is essentially a sexualised sociopath here and valtteri... is fairly accurate i guess lmao, incase it's unclear to someone this was not a love story


End file.
